


The Price That Was Paid

by Eustacia Vye (eustaciavye)



Category: Pitch Black (2000)
Genre: F/M, Porn Battle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-07
Updated: 2011-08-07
Packaged: 2017-10-22 07:45:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/235766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eustaciavye/pseuds/Eustacia%20Vye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carolyn survived the demons, but she wasn't all that different from the Necromongers under Riddick's command. He wanted her to be alive again.</p><p>(In the same 'verse as <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/156590">Scars,</a> which I wrote for Porn Battle XI.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Price That Was Paid

Being Queen of the Dead was an odd experience, and Carolyn wondered what unruly God thought she would fit the role. Necromongers wore skintight clothes and long, flowing robes. It was entirely inappropriate for being a pilot, but they didn't need a pilot. There were whispers in the halls of the Necropolis, but she was used to those. She could easily ignore those stupid creatures, and the first Necro that had thought she was easy prey got a knife to the chest buried to the hilt. She knew how to defend herself under ordinary circumstances, and Riddick had warned her that the Necros weren't fond of the living. It would be like fighting for her life every damn day, any sign of weakness a signal for the rest of them to swarm in and draw blood.

It sounded just like the demons on Hades, damn them all to fucking hell.

As odd as it was, spilling that socialite Necro's blood seemed to break open a damn inside her chest. She still didn't like being caged in, didn't like the press of anything getting too close. Most of the Necro cloth didn't feel so bad against her skin, but the stuff that passed for leather brought the memories back as vivid as if it was happening all over again. Riddick had sensed it in her, a despair and rage so deep that she had choked on it and couldn't speak. That leathery stuff was never brought near her again, and she was left with the soft silken fabrics that covered her from head to toe.

Riddick liked peeling the silken dresses from her skin, the lights dim but not completely out. He had no time for modesty and always treated the scars on her chest and back as a badge of honor. He liked to lick them, to trace them with his rough fingers. He could be rough, since her sensation there was dull. It wasn't nonexistent, however, and Carolyn had grown used to his attentions. If anything, she had started to see them as badges of honor the same way he did. She had lived, after all. The demons had impaled her and tried to tear her apart, but she had managed to survive anyway. She had beaten them back, lasted long enough until she could be dragged off that hellhole of a planet to heal.

Funny how it took a killer to make her feel whole again.

Carolyn sat in on the pilot classes that Necro recruits were given, listening to the endless drone of the instructor's voice. Riddick had been amused, and asked her opinion on the instructor's technique and ability. "Grade A asshole," had been her terse reply. When he simply stared, eyebrow raised, Carolyn had shrugged. "Bland instruction style, no finesse for the ones that can't visualize. And he doesn't sound like he knows shit about what actually happens in space. When was the last time he actually flew a ship? Not a shuttle, mind you, but an actual fucking cruiser?"

Riddick had merely smiled at her, something that should have drawn her hackles up. It would have, in her former life. She wasn't truly an innocent anymore, he was right about that, and his amused smile didn't trigger any alarm bells. Her fight or flight responses needed a much higher level of stimulation to be activated. That was likely the price she had paid on Hades.

The bastard put her in charge of the new recruits, grinning as he punched everyone that protested the change. Many of the Necros weren't fond of the fact their leader was now a full blooded live human, but you keep what you kill. It had been a fair fight, and everyone had witnessed the former Lord Marshall's defeat in combat. No one was willing to challenge Riddick, and his word was law.

Teaching the new recruits here wasn't that different from the piloting school where she had been before. These recruits were perhaps a little more attentive than her former students, and she found herself actually enjoying the teaching.

"You did that on purpose," Carolyn accused, coming back to their quarters in the Necropolis that night. "You tricked me."

"Did I?" Riddick drawled, leaning back across their bed. The lights were dim, just enough so that he could comfortably see without it being painful. He liked seeing the flush in her cheeks, that spark in her eyes that told him she was spoiling for a fight. If anything, the adrenaline it sparked brought out her scent a little more clearly. He always enjoyed that.

She poked him in the chest, eyes narrowing a fraction. "You most certainly did. I don't understand _why._ You hate these bastards. You can't stand them. Why teach them to be competent fliers?"

He grinned at her, a sharp flash of teeth that would have warned anyone else away. Even the Necros by now knew not to fuck with Riddick when he flashed that kind of a smile. But Carolyn wasn't afraid of that smile anymore, now that she knew what it meant. It might have meant death for anyone else, but it never meant death for her. For Carolyn, it was an amused sort of arousal.

"C'mere, beautiful."

She knelt on the bed beside him, within arm's length but not quite sprawled across his lap. If he wanted more, he would have to work for it. He would have to earn it, just like everything else. It was a sense of the perverse in her, but she didn't mind that at all.

"You're smarter than they are. You _think._ They don't know how to do that. All they know is how to follow orders. They're soldiers, not leaders." He grinned, eyes shining in the dim light. "And you're a leader without anyone following you. So now you have your team."

"There's you," Carolyn challenged.

Riddick laughed, a rich and deep-throated sound. "You think I follow you?"

"You would have come back for me," she reminded him.

He tugged on the belt to that ridiculously slinky silk dress and she tumbled into his arms. "Because nobody steals from me, Carolyn. Not creatures, not the dead." He kissed her, rough and hungry. "Those memories were stealing you from me. Now you're alive again."

He pulled at the dress' enclosure, and Carolyn left her palms flat on his chest, balancing herself above him. He pulled the dress from her shoulders, exposing the skin there. It was still smooth, still pale. He pulled the pins from her hair, letting it tumble down around her face. He inhaled deeply when the ends of the strands brushed against his face, and he drew the dress down her arms. Carolynn lifted one palm at a time, letting him pull the dress from her arms. Then he pushed it down to her waist, exposing the marred skin she no longer cared about. Riddick placed one massive hand in the center of her back, pulling her closer so that he could start laving the skin with his lips and tongue. She lowered herself and dropped her chin so that she could press her own lips to his scalp, feeling stubble against her lips.

When Carolyn sat back on her haunches, Riddick slowly moved to a seated position on the bed beside her. She removed his clothes, which were thick and more like woven armor. She leaned forward, her skin rubbing against his as she pressed kisses across his broad shoulders and arms. His muscle flexed beneath the skin she touched as he continued to pull at her dress, dragging it down her hips. Carolyn undid the ties at his waist, and then they had to shuffle position to pull the rest of their clothing off.

She liked touching him, and he rather liked being touched. By now she was used to his touch over her scars, the reverent way he spread his hands over them or licked them. Carolyn pushed him onto his back and took him into her mouth. She liked being on top of him, liked having some control. It was getting easier to tolerate his massive bulk on top of her, but she still liked mounting him and riding him hard and rough. It was almost like a fuck you to the universe, a way of confirming she hadn't lost everything.

Okay, maybe Riddick had a point about her being alive again now. Dammit.

Carolyn stopped long before he was ready to come. She was slick from his attentions already, and climbed on top of him. Riddick's expression was as inscrutable as ever, his hands on her hips to help balance her. She moved fast, her head thrown back as she moaned in pleasure. One of his hands slid up her belly, then hovered over her scar tissue. She moved one of her hands from his thigh to clasp it over his. Moving faster, she was close and chasing that that approaching orgasm. Riddick came first, and Carolyn sighed as she had to slow down. He took his other hand to her clit, stroking her just the way she liked it. Another minute of that and then she came, tight around his still-sensitive cock and her fingers digging into his thighs painfully.

"This is being alive, Carolyn," Riddick told her. "I like you better this way." His smile was full of teeth and barely concealed menace. Carolyn met his gaze head on. "You shouldn't give the fuckers more than they deserve."

"Which is?" she asked archly, eyebrow raised.

"Nothing," Riddick told her, that same smile on his face. "We're going to change these bastards. Shape 'em over into something new. Something more alive."

"They'll kill you for that." Not to mention her, if it came down to it. But she wasn't afraid of death anymore. She knew what that was like, and it was a cold abyss of darkness.

Riddick grinned, his hands tight on her hips. "Let 'em try. We'll gut 'em all and still rule them."

Carolyn returned his grin, feeling something like anticipation burn through her. Oh yes, Riddick was right. This was how it felt to be alive.


End file.
